| Here you were. Or were you? 'Her eyes...they're gaurded. Hidding,' I thought as I reached in the microwave. 'You're cautious...why?' Removing the containers, I sat them on the table. "Lo Mein...vegitarian, beef, pork, or chicken?" "Chicken," she said softly as she stood up. Even without the shoes, she had grown another inch, putting her at 5'5. The dress clung to her curves, causing me to mentally curse and draw my eyes off her body. 'You're here to prove that last time wasn't just lust. That maybe there's something more...so start doing it!' I yelled at myself. Grabbing the chicken and beef and a pair of forks, I walked over to her, extending my hand. "Shall we?" I replied. "Of course," she answered, taking my hand. I guided her to my couch and sat her down, sitting next to her. Eyes the color of varnished wood focused on the noodles with a focus that I knew mirrored my own when I was working. "College?" I offered, taking a bite and she shrugged. "The same as when you went. My major is physics." I nodded and sat in silence for nearly five minutes while we ate. 'Words...they're so cumbersome. They don't say what I really feel. That I miss you. That I made a mistake that I wish I could undo...' Suddenly, she looks up and tosses the hair out of her face and pins me with a look. "Why now?" she says so softly I almost didn't hear her. Almost. "Because..." 'Because what, Gil? Because you realized that after eight months of fighting that you and Sara were just too alike?' "Because I...you told me to chase my dreams and...I was chasing the...wrong one." Her eyes widened and she smiled sheepishly, turning her head slightly so her hair shielded her face. "So you lose one and chase another? What was it about chasing two rabbits?" "I...don't like things to get away," I answered softly and sighed, setting my carton on the table. A chuckle. "You're already married." "I'm not--" "To your job." Her eyes locked with mine. I knew that it was true. Forensics was my life, the driving force in my very soul. It's been my excuse for years. But not anymore. "Steward--" "Natasha...we're on a first name basis after...after," she shrugged, raising a thin shoulder. I nodded and shut my eyes. "That's a Russian name," I said simply. Smirking, she let out a small laugh. "You're obvious. I'm half Russian, half African American." 'An odd combination...but we're getting quite far from the point.' "I wanted to see...to see if...maybe..." my mouth was opened and I couldn't say anything. "If we worked," Natash finished. "That maybe one night could mean something more." Standing, she walked around my coffee table, studying my butterfly collection. "I've wanted to hear those words for nearly six months. I want to believe that maybe you can feel, that this brunette hadn't stolen your heart. Tell me, what went wrong?" I stared, shocked. "How did you know she was a brunette?" I asked softly. She didn't stop studying the butterflies or miss a beat. "She works with you. She's on the news with you sometimes. Brunette, short, delicate looking but firery. Passionate..." "Maybe too passionate," I said simply. I wanted to stand, to touch her, tell her what I couldn't say. 'But you're Gil Grissom, The Iceman, isn't that what she called you? "You can't give me what I want, Grissom. A relationship." Can I?' "She...wanted...so much. And I just...can't give that much of myself so soon..." "But you can to me?" "With time." "What's so different about me?" A question with so many answers. I said as much and Natasha smiled. "Gil...she wanted your heart," she whispered. "If she can't have it, what makes you think I can?" Finally standing, I walked in front of her, reaching out a hand to stroke the side of her face. Her face turned upwards to me and I smiled, knowing what I had to say. "Because...I know. I've never ran with my feelings before. But I want to. Now. And they lead me to you." Next |